


Hey, Shutterbug!

by Samalander45



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-03-04 03:39:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2907959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samalander45/pseuds/Samalander45
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel Novak is a budding photographer. A budding photographer trapped in the hell known as Truman High School, which is dominated by rival queen bees, Lilith Carlton, and Castiel's own best friend, Stephanie Barton. His life was in a tense, but recognizable and almost cozy routine, until a monkey wrench named Dean Winchester falls into the gears and blows everything apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

** Chapter One **

 

_Shh-click!_

            Castiel Novak looked down briefly at the screen of his camera and smiled, looking back up to his model.

            “Just a few more, Steph.” He said to the girl sitting on a tree stump. She groaned and blew a piece of hair from her face.

            “You better mean it this time. If the drill team doesn’t reserve the dance room within the hour, the middle school dance class gets it, and that means _we_ have to practice longer in the morning.”

            “Fine, fine,” Castiel said, pushing his beanie farther up on his head, hiding his wild, black hair. “You can go.”

            Steph pumped her fist in the air and got off the tree stump. “So, I hear you have to go shoot the cheer squad.” She raised an eyebrow in Castiel’s direction.

            “Steph, please,” Castiel begged. “Not this again.” 

            “I’m just stating. I’d hate to see your new camera spontaneously combust from the amount of whore your lens will be exposed to.”

            Stephanie ‘Steph’ Barton had a deep, unquenchable hatred for the cheer squad, especially the head cheerleader, Lilith Carlton, ever since the latter refused to let someone from the drill team audition. Ever since, Stephanie made it her personal goal to see Lilith fall from her status and rot in the pits of Hell.

            The rivalry didn’t end with Stephanie’s grudge against the cheerleaders. Besides reigning as head of the squad, Lilith was at the top of the food chain amongst the athletes, wealthy preps, and conservative goodie two shoes, and found pleasure in publicly humiliating anyone who didn’t fit her standards.

            Stephanie, on the other hand, dominated as undisputed queen of the drill team, hipsters—despite their protests of cliques being too mainstream—LGBT and allies, geeks and intellectuals, and some freeloaders without a place to call their own, and those with their own vendettas against Lilith.

            Castiel, who normally preferred to remain in the shadows and take pictures of quiet places, was sucked into the jungle known as high school politics when he came out of the closet and under the scrutiny of Lilith when they were sophomores. Stephanie, however, was quick to extend a wing over Castiel and draw him close to her fold.

            Now juniors, the stakes were running at an all time high. With Prom quickly arriving, nominees would be selected and voted for, creating a tumultuous atmosphere.

            And nobody wanted the crown more than the two reigning empresses of Truman High. Why? Because whoever won the crown not only stood in the spotlight for Prom, but was the unquestionable ruler of the whole student body for the entirety of her senior year.

            It was a tradition that went silently unspoken, but loudly visible. Lilith’s family formed a dynasty when it came to prom queens, and naturally, Stephanie would certainly not have that.

            “I’ll make sure to pack an extra lens in case this one melts.” Castiel said in reply to Stephanie’s remark. His friend simply shrugged and bid him goodbye, walking away to disappear into a crowd of awed freshmen.

            Castiel finished packing up his equipment and crossed the lawn he was photographing Stephanie on to the parking lot, cutting through the science building, ending up at the football field, out of breath and certainly flustered.

            “It’s about time you arrived,” Lilith said coldly as Castiel approached. “I was _this_ close to just taking the pictures myself.”

            “I’m sorry,” Castiel said. “I was preoccupied with previous engagements.” He met Lilith’s scalding eyes and held the expression easily.

            Lilith’s eyes narrowed but she shook her head, blonde tresses dancing in the sunlight. “Whatever,” she said. “Just get this over with. We have routines to perfect.”

            Cas muttered a bitter statement under his breath and dug out his camera. If it had been up to him, he wouldn’t have touched the idea of shooting the squad for the yearbook with a ten foot pole. However, his teacher threatened to dock his grade and ruin his chances at sending in his portfolio to a modeling agency if he didn’t.

            He took a few sets of the cheerleaders posing on the bleachers or standing in a pyramid when Lilith decided that enough was enough and sent Castiel on his way. Thank God.

            He was headed back towards the parking lot when a misplaced shoulder bumped into what felt like a light pole and he spilled across the ground, camera lenses and equipment spewing from their case.

            “Woah, take it easy there.” Someone said from above. Castiel looked up and felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

            A pair of deep, grassy green eyes were staring down at him. “You okay?” the other boy asked, raising an eyebrow. A dark brown leather jacket hung from his broad shoulders, hiding a shirt that clung to a sculpted body and jeans that hugged his pair of bow legs perfectly.

            “I’m fine,” Castiel practically snapped, suddenly aware of the situation and Lilith’s cold, calculating glare sizing him up from a distance. “But for future reference, maybe you should watch where you’re going.”

            “Jesus, I was just askin’ man. No need to go all ice princess. I’m Dean, by the way. Dean Winchester.” He extended a hand to help Castiel off the grass.

            The invisible fist sunk into Castiel’s gut once more. The name was fairly popular despite having circulated through the social circles of the school for less than a week, though Castiel had never had the opportunity to see the face until now.

            “I’m—”

            “Castiel!” Stephanie’s sharp voice barked from nearby and he looked over to see her looking skeptically down at them, her sharp, hazel eyes trained harshly on Dean. Perfect.

            “—Castiel.” He repeated. “And I have to go.” He stood up and collected his camera equipment and jogged over to meet with Stephanie. He avoided her eyes and shuffled his feet against the sidewalk.

            “Who was that?” Stephanie asked once they were some distance from the field.

            “His name’s Dean,” Castiel answered. “I simply bumped into him and tripped.”

            “Dean what?” Stephanie asked. “Winchester?” Castiel gave a curt nod in response.

            “So _that’s_ the other Winchester,” she mused out loud. “This is turning out to be _very_ interesting.”

            “Why do you say that? He’s only been here a week, hasn’t he?”

            Stephanie stopped and pulled her hair into a ponytail. “That’s irrelevant. What really matters is his brother.”

            “What about him?” Castiel asked, suddenly becoming increasingly annoyed.

            “Because, Cassie,” Stephanie explained. “Apparently his little brother spends most of his time in the library, studying and finishing AP Chemistry assignments.”

            “Meaning?” Castiel asked rhetorically. He could already sense where Stephanie was taking this.

            “Meaning he’s on _our_ side, Castiel. Which makes this situation even more enjoyable, seeing how Dean is clearly a meathead that enjoys throwing a ball of air around.”

            “Maybe he was taking a shortcut across the field,”  Cas offered as they approached their cars. He dug his keys out of his messenger back and stuck them into the driver’s side door. Stephanie shook her head, smiling widely.

            “Cassie, please,” she smirked, patronizingly. “I could smell his illiteracy from twenty feet away. He’s obvi a jock.”

            “Oh, God,” Cas groaned, opening his door. “What have I said about shortening words? And you don’t necessarily know that he’s on Lilith’s side. As far as we know he’s affiliated himself with Jo Harvelle.”

            “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re defending him,” Stephanie said, folding her arms across the roof of her car as she stared at Castiel. “And if you want to become technical, Harvelle’s with us. It’s a well known fact she hates Lilith just as much as I do.”

            “Whatever,” Castiel said. “I’m late for work.”

            He bid Stephanie goodbye and drove away, unable to shake the look Steph had in her eyes.


	2. Chapter Two

** Chapter Two **

           

            Dean waited until—Castiel? He’d have to work on finding a different name for him—was gone before he continued on his way down the field to track down the locker room. His thoughts, however, were not on football—yes, he joined the team the minute the coach saw him throw a pass—but rather lingered on that weird, cold photographer he crash landed into. And why the hell was he associating with that crazy bitch Stephanie?

            “Hey! You!” a female called from his right. He looked over to see a blonde cheerleader waving him over, thronged by well…even more cheerleaders. Hot ones at that, too. A brunette waved from the back shyly.

            “You’re the newest player, right?” the blonde asked. Dean cracked his signature grin and postured. Classic, panty dropping, girl catching Winchester appeal.

            “Depends on what kind of player you’re referring to, sweetness.”

            The cheerleader’s face fell instantly, turning to stone. “Cut the theatrics, moron. Are you or are you not the newest _football_ player?”

            _Ouch_. This girl would need some work. “Yeah, I am. Why do you ask?” he tossed a casual glance back to the brunette from before. Ha-cha-cha.

            The girl smiled once again. “No reason in particular. Can I tell you something?”

            Dean snorted and shifted his weight, glancing down at his watch. Shit; he was late. “I haven’t tried stopping you before.”

            The blonde’s smile turned slightly venomous. “I’d stay away from Castiel Novak. He’s associated with that _crazy_ Stephanie Barton. And he’s a _flaming_ homo.”

            “And do you have an issue with that?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. This girl was a hellacious bitch. He felt a slight twinge of guilt for wasting his charm on her.

            The girl shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m just throwing you a heads up. I wouldn’t want you being made uncomfortable by any unwanted advances.”

            “Sweetheart,” Dean said. “You’ve done that already.” And with that, he stalked away, leaving some of the girls giggling while others instantly flocked to their queen, who was now fuming and red in the face.

            “Asshole!” she cried after him. He responded by simply sticking a choice finger in the air and made his way to the locker room.

                                                                        O~O~O~O

            The coaches at Truman High School were not noted for their decency towards their players, new ones especially. Their practices were long, hard, and sweat filled, but it paid off in the end.

            Dean found that out the hard way when he was blindsided at least four times and forced to run laps when he fumbled, not to mention for being late. Normally he shot his way up the ranks at the other schools he briefly attended, thanks to his natural ability to lob the pigskin a good hundred yards and his ways with women.

            This school, however, he felt would be a lot different. Practice had ended at least twenty minutes ago, and Dean was still trying to peel out of his gear, wincing as his sore muscles angrily protested at the movements.

            “Winchester, nice tackles,” some kid named Milligan jeered. Dean flipped him off, jovially and the remaining teammates laughed.

            “So. See anyone that catches your eye?” a Southern accent asked. Dean looked over and scrunched his lips in thought, shrugging a little towards the guy approaching him. Benny, he thought his name was.

            “Eh, maybe, maybe not.” Dean said. “I ran into the cheer squad today though.”

            “And? See anyone?” Benny asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

            “Or did Lilith ruin any chances of that?” Milligan asked. Adam! That’s what his name was. “Man, she’s a _bitch_.”

            “Which one’s Lilith?” Dean inquired, wrapping a towel around his waist before he hit the shower.

            “The evil blonde one, brother.” Benny answered. “She’s the queen bee of this school.”

            “So she likes to think,” Adam quipped. “You’re forgetting about Barton. Those two are out for blood, I’m telling you.”

            Dean nodded absentmindedly. He’d heard about Lilith in classes and between whispered thoughts in the halls, and now he could put a face to the name.

            “’Ey, don’t you have little brother?” Adam asked, nodding towards Dean, earning a nod in return.

            “Sammy? Yeah, but he’s a little nerd.” Dean laughed. “Damn smart, though.”

            “Dude. You better hide him before Barton catches him.”

            “Okay, slow down.” Dean said, holding up his hands. “The hell is wrong with this school?”

            “Only a matter of time before you asked,” Benny muttered. “Alright, all you need to know is that Lilith and Stephanie hate each other, alright? And they practically lead the school. I swear, it’s like we’re living in some chick-flick drama. Literally, bro. Lilith’s the queen of the preps, jocks, blah blah blah. Stephanie’s the leader of all the other kids like the hipsters, drama geeks, normal geeks, and the gays.”

            “And to make all of this shitstorm worse, Lilith is head cheerleader—” Adam trailed off.

            “—And Stephanie is captain of the drill team. Arch rivals in every sense of the word.” Benny finished.

            “I’ll be damned.” Dean muttered. “This school’s insane.”

            “Well, it doesn’t end there, dude. They’re dukin’ it out for Prom queen too, because whoever wins the crown at Prom, ends up being the queen of the school for her _entire_ senior year.”

            “So what exactly does this have to do with Sammy?” Dean asked, scrubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not gonna move the kid to another school just to avoid this.”

            “Well, it’s like you said yourself. Your brother’s a nerd. That’s Stephanie’s territory, and if she gets to him first, well…you’re screwed, man.”

            “And what about me?” Dean asked.

            “Well, technically speaking,” Adam said. “You’re in Lilith’s half of the school. You’re on the football team, so you’re a jock. And that falls under Lilith’s category.”

            “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Dean groaned.

            “Sorry man,” Adam said, slapping Dean’s back. “That’s the way it works around here. Unless you’d rather hang out with Jo Harvelle and her group. Sure, they’d basically be with Stephanie because Jo _hates_ Lilith, but they’re basically their own people. They fly under the radar; no one gets hurt.”

            “At the rate this is goin’, I’d rather be dead.” Dean muttered as he shuffled into the shower.

            Man, this school had some _major_ issues.

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

** Chapter Three **

 

            _One Week Later_

“Steph, please, don’t do this. He’s just a kid.” Castiel begged as he followed Stephanie through the halls of the high school as the Barton girl prowled to the library. “He doesn’t need to be sucked into this.”

            “I really don’t understand why you’re so upset by this, Cassie,” Stephanie said, stopping to whirl around and face Castiel. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head when you bumped into Dean on the field?”

            “Because, Sam’s a _seventh_ grader. By the time he gets into high school, we’ll be long gone, and hopefully so will the rivalry you and Lilith have.”

            “Castiel, look,” Stephanie said, tapping her foot. “From what I’ve been able to gather from the gossips at school, Dean is very, _very_ protective of his brother—”

            “—Which is exactly why you shouldn’t try to influence him. I’d rather not see you be decapitated.” Castiel said. Stephanie whacked him upside the head.

            “Would you just listen?” she scowled, though jovial at least. “It’s better that _I_ try to talk to him, than Lilith.”  Castiel’s mind had gone somewhat blank, but he nodded at the vague point Stephanie made. “If she did anything to him, Dean would freak out. So, I’m maintaining the social balance, _and_  being a good Samaritan by watching out for a child.”

            “But then why are we not at the middle school looking for him?”

            “Because,” Steph droned, “According Ruby’s little half-sister, Meg, Sam waits for Dean in the high school library while Dean is at practice. The middle school janitors kick anybody out after school hours.”

            “Do you realize how much of a stalker you sound like right now?” Castiel asked, narrowly avoiding another slap to the head. “But really, Steph. What if we run into Dean?”

            “He is at practice right now, Castiel. Besides, I’m pretty sure the term ‘library’ is enough to make Dean stay very, very far away. Furthermore, none of Lilith’s minions would step foot in here. It’s established Barton territory.”

            “ _Barton_ territory?” Castiel asked, baffled. “Since when did you take your claim?”

            Steph sighed, shoulders slumped to the floor as she fixed Castiel with an exasperated look. “After all the time we’ve been best friends, you _still_ don’t remember how the campus is mapped out.”

            “I’m afraid so,” Castiel answered, digging through his bag to locate his phone. “It’s a tragedy, isn’t it?”

            “Whatever, smartass.” Stephanie continued. “Lilith and her kingdom of slut own the athletic fields and gym after school hours. As for me; everything else, thanks to my lovely, loyal subjects. The parking lot, computer lab on the second floor, and the grass between us and the middle school are neutral zones.”

            “So, explain how I’m able to walk onto the football field without bursting into flames?” Castiel asked.

            “Because you are a literal, walking press pass. If it weren’t for the fact you were the president of the Yearbook Club, Lilith would make sure you’d never be able to move an inch towards any of the fields.”

            “I feel so lucky.”

            Stephanie shook his comment off and continued on to the library, eyes searching for her target. She huffed angrily and stalked towards a redhead with large headphones on, music loudly filling the space around her as she idly flipped through the pages of a comic book.

            “Charlie,” Stephanie said quietly, crouching down slightly. “Charlie?” she waved her hand in front of her face. “ _Charlie Bradbury!_ ”

            Charlie jumped and yanked off her headphones. “Aah! You can’t do that you know!”

            “Have you seen Sam Winchester by chance?”

            “Sam who?” Charlie asked. Stephanie’s eyes narrowed a little. “Alright, alright. Humor is clearly above you right now.”

            “How the hell does Charlie know where he is?” Cas asked, incredulous. Stephanie shushed him.

            “He’s in the back corner. I’ve been watching the doors in case he leaves.” Charlie said, returning to her book.  
            “You’re the best spy ever.” Stephanie said, walking away as Charlie sneakily stole a glance at her back end.

            They found their target where Charlie said he’d be, engrossed in homework, pencil furiously scribbling across some graph paper.

            “Hi, are you Sam?” Steph said sweetly. The young Winchester bolted upright, startled.

            “Yeah. Who are you?” he asked, eyeing them suspiciously.

            “Well, this is my friend Castiel, and I’m Stephanie.”

            “Barton?” Sam asked, face falling into a mask of indifference.

            “Yeah, how’d you know?” Steph asked as she eased into a chair opposite of Sam. Castiel opted to keep standing as lookout in case of some miraculous event that Dean should come sweeping in like the Apocalypse.

            “My friend has already informed me on the back story of your and Lilith Carlton’s feud. It’s not exclusive news to the high school.”

            “It’s not just a feud, Sammy—” Stephanie said smoothly.

            “—And only my brother Dean can call me Sammy, and even then, I hate it.” He said. “It’s Sam.”

            “Fair enough, _Sam_ ,” Steph said, eyes widening in aggravation. This kid had _G-U-T-S._

            “Can I help you with anything?” Sam continued.

            “Well, I know it may come off as strange, but, I just want you to be able to know, that if you need _anything_ , don’t hesitate to ask me or any of my friends.”

            Sam paused for a second. “You’re trying to recruit me, aren’t you?”

            “Holy shit,” Castiel muttered under his breath. Was this child psychic or something?  
            “No,” Stephanie said through slightly gritted teeth. “I’m here to let you know not to be afraid of us.”

            “I’m not scared of the high school kids. Look, it’s obvious you’d be the choice to go to for help. Lilith Carlton is a major ass bitch.” Sam said, switching back to what looked like Trigonometry. The kid was also a genius on the side; excellent.

            Stephanie fist pumped at the compliment. “But, at the same time,” Sam went on. “You’re not any better. You go after children for allies.”

            “Okay, look, Sam,” Castiel finally intervened before Stephanie had a meltdown. “Stephanie really is only trying to help you. Now it’s fairly obvious you’ve been tipped off about the history of the relationship between my friend and Lilith, and therefore you’re also aware of the division of the rudimentary monarchy, right?”

            Sam nodded. Castiel’s head twitched in affirmation as he went on. “Then you should realize that Dean is considered to be on Lilith’s side of the court. But if she catches wind that you are more into the intellectual side, like me for example, instead of staring early as some of your peers have done to be sex driven, superficial drones, she will stop at _nothing_ to make your life a living hell.”  
            “…Go on,” Sam said, motioning with his hand.

            “Meaning that as petty as it sounds,” Castiel sighed. “You’re going to need some form of protection. I hear Meg Masters is in your grade, right?”

            Sam nodded. “Well, she’s the younger sister of our friend, Ruby. Which means if you associate with her—even though she’s a little crazy—Ruby will watch out for you, and she reports back to Stephanie if anything happens.”

            “I see,” Sam said. “But you guys do realize that I have my own issues, right? I’m in seventh grade taking sophomore level classes, I’m hitting a growth spurt, and my voice is beginning to do that God awful cracking thing, and because of it I’ve lost my courage to talk to Jessica Moore. My life kind of sucks right now!”

            “Oh, to be young again.” Stephanie mused. “So, Sam. Are you with us or not?”

            “Are you going to leave me alone if I say yes?”

            “Possibly.” Stephanie shrugged as she stood up.

            “Then yes.” Sam muttered. “Now can I finish my Trig?”

 

O~O~O~O~O

            “Haha!” Stephanie cheered as they stepped out of the library. “That is a weight off of my shoulders.”

            “It’s still a little creepy how obsessed with the Winchesters.” Castiel said. “Dean’s forbidden territory, isn’t he?”

            “He’s also a ticking time bomb, Castiel.” Stephanie said. “And for now, Lilith and I have a temporary truce so we can begin our Prom campaigns. But, because people in both of the schools are gossips, she’s going to hear that the younger Winchester has allied himself with me, and I honestly wouldn’t put it past her if she tried to attack him. If she tries that, she breaks the truce, pisses Dean off and he topples her kingdom, her reputation is in irreparable shambles for going after a _minor_ and the crown is practically handed over to _me._ ”

            “You’ve put far too much thought into this for it to be healthy,” Castiel said, pausing at a water fountain.

            “It’s good to be diabolical. And besides, it never hurts to be prepared.”

            “But what if this whole meeting with Sam turns out to be pointless? What if someone besides Dean happens to rebel and crush Lilith? You’d still end up with the crown, but a pointless alliance with a middle schooler.” Castiel said.

            “But it also shows that the shadow of my wings can extend to even the youngest of our campuses.” Stephanie said, sighing happily. Her phone beeped and she grimaced slightly. “I have to go. Apparently Ruby is having a crisis.”

            “Which would be?”

            “She needs French fries but her car is in the shop getting an oil change.”

            “Aah, I see. Because nothing screams emergency like the lack of junk food. Classic Ruby.” Castiel said, kicking a foot out in front of him.

            “You know how she is; those things are like crack for her. Anyway, I’ll call you later and we can go over the photos you took the other day. Bye!” Stephanie called over her shoulder as she disappeared down the hall.

            Castiel grunted in mild agreement and mindlessly wandered the empty halls. He found it pointless, that if Stephanie was to have such a large amount of campus to herself, that she wouldn’t fill it with her followers.

            He was too lost in thought as he glanced at an art display when he crashed into a wall and fell all over himself.

            “Damn it, Cas.” He groaned as he stood up, flinching backwards when he made eye contact with Dean Winchester.  “You have _got_ to start watching where you’re going, or at least make some noise when you walk down a hall.”

            “Got distracted,” Dean said simply.

            “You’re aware you’re not even supposed to be here after school hours, right?” Castiel asked. Stephanie would be royally pissed if she found out about this.

            “Apparently I can, because you’re standing here too.” Dean retorted quickly, an easy smile crossing his lips. A smile that Castiel found surprisingly attractive and annoying at the same time.

            “No, dumbass,” he said, boldly throwing the insult into the open. “This is Steph’s territory. Technicalities dictate you and the rest of Lilith’s cliques own the athletic fields and the gym, and the only times Barton and Carlton followers are to fraternize are during school hours or on the neutral boundaries.”

            “Well, if you don’t tell your crazy girlfriend, I won’t tell mine.” Dean said with a wink.

            “Stephanie is not my girlfriend. I’m one-hundred percent sure Lilith has made my sexuality painfully obvious to you, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t treat it like a joke.” Castiel snapped.

            “ _Re-lax_ , man.” Dean said. “I don’t have a beef with you guys.”

            “Just…what do you want, Winchester?” Castiel asked, annoyed, eyelids fluttering to emphasize his emotion.

            “I’m here to pick up my brother, Sammy.” Dean explained. “So I’m just going to the library, taking the nerd with me, and then I’m out of your sex hair.”

            “I do not have sex hair.” Castiel stammered, flushing a hot shade of red.

            “And by the way, I _want_ you to pull the stick out of your ass and smile. It would look good on you.” Dean said, winking as he continued on his venture. “I’ll see you around, Cas.”

            “It’s Castiel. That name’s never going to stick.”

            “We’ll see about that,” Dean called over his shoulder before he disappeared completely.

            Cas groaned and kicked at a locker. “Asshole.”


	4. Chapter Four

** Chapter Four **

 

            Dean made his way to the library—with some help from a janitor, nonetheless, and found his little brother hidden in a corner, nose shoved deep into a book. No surprise there, honestly.

            “Hey, Nerd.” Dean said, ruffling Sam’s hair to attract his attention. Sam made a face and shook his head, making his shaggy mane fall back into place. “Don’t pull the Bitch face at me.” He whacked Sam upside the head, cracking a grin as he did so.

            “I met some of your friends today,” Sam said, an eyebrow twitching as he gathered his notebooks. Dean’s own forehead rose in question.

            “What were Benny and Adam doing in here?” Dean asked, thoroughly surprised.

            “Oh, it wasn’t any of your teammates.” Sam corrected. “It was Stephanie Barton and that Cas kid you’ve been talking about since _forever_.”

            Dean’s face soured a little at the expression Sam was now pulling, batting his eyelashes. “Shut up, Sammy.” He said. “Let’s go. All of the geek in this room is making me sick.”

            “Says the one that still occasionally sleeps with Star Trek sheets.” Sam quipped, expertly dodging a headlock.

            “Those are classics, and that knowledge dies with you.”

            “Well. You better go and kill Castiel, too, then.” Sam said, giggling. “Oops?”

            “Bitch.” Dean said, frowning.

            “Jerk.” Sam retorted, squealing once Dean managed to snag him, knuckles grinding into his scalp. Sam wriggled out of the headlock and shook his mop of hair back into place.

            “What did they want with you, anyway?” Dean asked, frowning as he forgot which way he was supposed to go. Damn, this school was confusing. Sam tugged on his arm to direct him back.

            “It’s a tragic scene, Dean.” Sam said, smiling at the fact he’d rhymed. “Stephanie was trying to recruit me or whatever.”

            Dean froze in place. “They did what?”

            “Not _they_ , Dean,” Sam corrected. “Just Stephanie. Castiel stayed out of it…mostly. He’s very well grounded despite associating with Barton.”

            “Still, Sammy. They shouldn’t be going after you.” Dean said, gruffly.

            “Oh, come on, Dean. Admit that you like how you and Cas are forbidden to be together, and that your little brother has allied himself with your queen’s sworn rival.”

            “Shut the hell up, Sam.”

O~O~O~O~O

            “Damn it, damn it, _damn it!_ ” Castiel said, lashing out at his car, kicking its tire savagely. The battery was dead, and Stephanie had to leave for practice, otherwise he’d have her fix the issue. It was strange; Stephanie was very feminine and spoke fluent female lingo, but was surprisingly and almost frighteningly adept at mechanics.

            “You piece of shit.” He said, glowered down at the car. It met his gaze almost equally and he sighed and leaned against it, pulling out his phone. The car wasn’t really that bad; he’d only gotten it a year ago as a birthday present from his parents, but lately, it had been giving him major issues.

            A stiff wind caught at his scarf and threatened to tear it away.  Fall was arriving early, September chasing August away with cold breezes and soaking rainstorms, both of which brewed above.

            The clouds snarled with a warning up above and Castiel just glared up, challenging the dark gray shadows. In response they began to drizzle, wetting his face.

            “I hate my life,” he grumbled as he glanced back down at his phone, dialing what family members lived in town. The only responses he got were repeated voicemail beeps. Fantastic.

            “Cab it is,” he said, growing a bit anxious. The sports teams would be letting out of practice soon, and in the parking lot, alone, Castiel was an easy target. Lilith’s car sat parked, predatorily a few rows away from Cas’s.

            He had just barely hit the call option on the screen when doors slammed open, very loudly and figures dashed out of the school, heading towards a sleek, black vehicle. Cas froze and almost instantly dropped to the ground, having sworn he heard one bellow out his name. He almost opted for hiding underneath his car.

            “Cas! Where the hell did he go?” someone shouted. Cas groaned; _Dean._

            He felt paralyzed as footsteps approached his location and he scrambled to the front of his car, seriously considering squeezing himself under his Corolla, when he felt someone’s presence and turned around slowly.

            Shit.

            “Hello, Dean.” Castiel said. Dean did not look amused and Cas sent a sideways glance towards Sam. The little snitch; he must’ve told Dean everything.

            “Cas, what the hell are you doing on the ground, in the rain?” Dean asked, squatting to meet Cas’s eye level.

            “Dropped a contact.” Cas lied. “Found it!” he said, feigning joy.

            “Tell the truth.” Dean said, deadpan.

            “My battery’s dead.” Cas said. “So I’m waiting for my cab to come get me.”

            “...On the ground?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow and raking over Cas with a skeptical look.    

            “I got tired.” Cas said simply. “What business is it of yours?” He asked, sneezing.

            “Nothin’, really.” Dean answered. “It’s just not everyday someone sits in front of their dead car, in some cold ass rain. C’mon. I’ll take you home.”

            “I don’t think--”

            “I swear to God, if you’re going to say a damn word about that _stupid_ rivalry horseshit, I’m going to shove you into my trunk and hit every pothole.”

            “Jesus Christ,” Cas said under his breath. “Fine. But I have to take my equipment with me.” He said, flashing an eyebrow up at Dean.

            Cas made a point of appearing sassy as he loaded all of his equipment—consisting of a single tripod and two camera bags, into Dean’s trunk and got into the backseat. Dean, however, refused to start the car and just glared at Cas from the rearview.

            “Is there a problem?” Cas asked, pulling an earbud from his ear.

            “Get your ass up here and sit like an adult.” Dean said. Cas snorted and ignored him, listening to Rusted Root, until Dean grew fed up and physically removed him with hardly any effort and almost threw him into the passenger seat.

            Sam, however, found all of this to be hilarious.

            “You’re an asshole,” Cas said, indignantly as Dean tightened his seatbelt a little too tightly.

            “You’re not the nicest either, princess.” Dean corrected as he finally pulled out of the parking lot. Cas glared out the window, hating the nagging thought scratching at the back of his head that maybe, just _maybe_ he was starting to like Dean Winchester.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thank you to everyone that has left kudos, comments, bookmarks and the like; it means so much! 
> 
> This chapter is a little blah, but I feel terrible for not updating enough for you lovely people! 
> 
> I will try to update more frequently, but for now please enjoy this chapter!

** Chapter Five **

 

            The ride, for Castiel, was less than enjoyable. While he wasn’t in the trunk, Dean still made a point of hitting potholes at the expense of his car’s shocks. Castiel eventually had enough of the haphazard jarring and glared over at Dean, pulling out an earbud.

            “Could you know…not?” he said, exasperated. Dean cracked a wide grin and shook his head.

            “Not until you, you know…have an actual conversation and stop being a little prissy hipster.”

            Castiel’s face flared bright red as he felt white hot offense bubble up. “I am _not_ a hipster, thank you very much.”

            “But you are at least admitting you’re being a little bitch, right?” Dean retorted. Sam almost cackled from the backseat, stopping only with a warning glare from his brother.

            Castiel inhaled deeply, eyes narrowed in the elder Winchester’s direction. “Fine. I suppose I could stop being so indifferent towards you for a few minutes.”

            Dean tapped the brakes suddenly, nearly sending Cas through the windshield. The latter may or may not have shrieked.

            “Or, you could put aside the whole Mean Girls attitude and actually be my friend, which is what I’m trying to do.” Dean offered, looking over at Cas, who was practically clinging to the door for dear life.

            “I think you fail to realize just how deeply involved I am in this thing.” Cas said. “I need Steph in order to survive high school.”

            “Bullshit.” Dean declared. “You don’t need her. Normally people run away from me. You, however, have insulted me more times in a week than Sam has his entire life.”

            “That’s because your little brother feels a deep loyalty to you.” Cas said. “I however, have no reason to affiliate my allegiance with you, except for today, which I have no idea in all honesty to repay you for.”

            “I have a few ideas of my own…” Dean trailed off, grinning.

            “There is no way in hell I am giving you a lap dance.” Cas almost snapped, blushing a little at the thought.

            “I never said anything like that.”

            “Your expression begs to differ, Dean.”

            “You were the one to think of it first, dude.” Dean said, scanning Cas’s reaction, snorting a little as the other clenched his fists around his bag’s straps and glared back out the window.

            Dean finally pulled into Cas’s driveway after a pause in the conversation filled with AC/DC and Motley Crue.

            Cas was not hesitant at all about getting out of the car and waiting for Dean to open the trunk, tapping his foot all the while.

            “Don’t be so excited to leave, man.” Dean said, almost humorlessly. Cas sighed and stared at the ground.

            “I apologize. Today’s just been a trying day, that’s all.”

            “Yeah, I guess I could why riding in your forbidden friend’s car would do that to you.” Dean said.

            “Don’t patronize me, Winchester. And before you openly mock the entire situation at school, maybe brush up on your local history and learn to understand the way I act the way I do.” Castiel said, grabbing his tripod and camera bags in a quick motion.

            He turned to leave when a strap came undone and his foot decided to stop working, causing him, and his equipment, to clatter across his driveway. “God damn it.” Cas muttered.

            “Look, man,” Dean said, stooping to help Cas up and grabbed a runaway lens cap. “You’ve gotta learn to not take everything so serious, alright?” Cas grunted an attempt at a laugh.

            “I’ll try to keep that in mind.” Cas said, gathering himself together and walking to his front door, Dean trailing behind with his tripod.

            “Oh, by the way. You’re repaying me by going to a movie on Friday. I’ll see you at seven.” Dean said into Cas’s ear, breath slithering across skin. Cas began to stammer out a rebuttal, but by the time he had recovered from Dean’s…well, whatever the hell that was, the other was practically in his car.

            Cas trembled and squealed with frustration as he shoved his house key into the deadlock when he heard the rumble of a motor and turned around to see Dean hanging out his window.

            “Hey, Shutterbug! Wear something sexy!” he called out with a lewd wink.

            And just like that, Dean Winchester had left Castiel Novak dumbfounded on his front porch, a loud guitar riff fading away with Castiel’s sense of resolve.


End file.
